The manor was a realm of its own. It rose starkly against the night sky, with its thick, gray stone walls adorned with flowing banners and flags in red, blue, and gold, bearing the owner's emblem.
On its top were structures inspired by architecture from the various periods in Karomozian history. The front prominently featured rotund, ivory domes with golden spires on top, displaying the splendor of the city-state of Tawan. The flanks were dotted with slender towers lined with intricate parapets, a style incorporated owing to a brief capture by the Maloran Empire. Every floor had spacious balconies protruding out from numerous stained-glass doors and windows.
Behind the manor, the Tawan Bay stretched across the horizon, dotted by specks of lights from watercraft of all kinds. Luxurious yachts and ferries were docked at piers, bobbing up and down with each tide. The bay was surrounded by a natural harbor of sloping cliffsides lined with other exquisite mansions.
Gardens with finely cut fresh grass stretched across either side of the manor, resplendent with shrubbery teeming with colorful flowers imported from Trezon and Honax. Little bioluminescent mushrooms from Eddenmusk lined the cobbled pathways snaking through the gardens while hedges encircled the boundaries. Luxuriant trees and vines were trimmed into spheres, circles, and arches.
The winding driveway led from between craggy mountains and passed underneath an opulent marble arch before encircling a massive fountain sitting in front of the entrance to the manor. It was made of white marble and bore the owner's emblem in gold all around its base. A dozen water spouts spewed about ten feet into the air, lit by red and blue lights. They converged in the middle and fell as a single stream to be collected into a vase held by a statue sitting atop a high pedestal.
Media crew was gathered around the fountain as each reporter vied to have the most magnificent background. Luxury sedans, sports cars, and stretches skirted around the fountain and dropped their high-profile passengers in front of the entrance steps before proceeding toward the parking spots adjacent to the gardens. Camerapersons and reporters alike rushed to accost the celebrities and dignitaries as the camera drones bathed them in rapid flashes of light.
The guests wore sharp and sleek suits and lavish gowns of silk and velvet. It was a never-ending loop with them — they got out of their vehicles, waved at the media, and said a few things to the droves of reporters before parading down the red carpet and climbing the steps to the entrance.
"Finally!" Heraclark said under his breath as their stretch passed underneath the marble arch toward the fountain.
He wore a navy tuxedo jacket over a cerulean dress shirt and black trousers with a navy bow tie. His shoes were black with navy straps. He had styled his blue-black hair into brushed-up spikes.
The stretch circled the fountain at a snail's pace as media crew hounded it from all sides, apparently with a death wish to get run over by it.
"You guys ready?" Pinz inquired.
She wore a satin gown with a white bodice, red, puffy short-sleeves, and a red, layered, flowing, floor-length skirt. A tilted orange sash with a bow on the side was at her waist, with two strips of orange fabric dangling onto her dress, while a matching fabric wrapped diagonally around her bodice below the chest. An orange choker with a bow adorned her neck. She wore her pigtails in wavy ringlets, secured by orange bows.
"For the past four hours, yes," Heraclark replied.
Presently, the stretch stopped in front of the entrance.
"Alright, then. Good luck, guys!" Pinz said as she took a deep breath.
"You too. We are counting on you," Doxonica said.
Her off-the-shoulder gown was yellow with sheer, periwinkle shoulder straps emerging from underneath. It extended into a yellow, ruffled floor-length skirt that split at the thighs, revealing a translucent, periwinkle ankle-length petticoat underneath. She wore yellow platform shoes with periwinkle straps while a plum bracelet was on her left upper arm. A plum headband pushed back some of her silky hair while the rest framed her face.
"Stay in contact," Jayrock said, tapping at his earpiece. "Remember, our main objective, for now, is getting to where the dragonsalt is being processed. Not Oblitz. Besides, the auction he is supposed to be at is also only for exclusive guests. So, we must infiltrate the exclusive area anyway before attempting to contact him."
He was dressed in a white jacket and trousers over a teal dress shirt and a necktie with teal, cyan, and white stripes. His jacket napkin matched his necktie, while his shoes were white with black laces and soles. He had neatly combed back his short, golden-brown hair.
The four of them nodded solemnly. In a moment, the chauffeur opened their door. A clamor of a hundred different voices merged into one endless rumble instantly assaulted their ears.
Pinz took a deep breath and straightened her back. She gave her hand to the chauffeur before gingerly placing one red heel on the pavement.
Rapid flashes of light instantly made her squint just as camera clicks could be heard through the noise. She gathered her gown and finally emerged from the car.
The crowd rang out with cheers just as a dozen reporters suddenly gathered around her and thrust microphones in her direction, jostling and shoving each other.
Jayrock and Doxonica got out of the stretch behind her.
"Let's go," Heraclark said to the chauffeur.
The chauffeur nodded before getting behind the wheel and proceeding toward the parking lot.
Pinz tried her best to make out the individual questions being shouted at her.
"Ms. Ailoraw, do you have any updates on—"
"Ms. Ailoraw, is Bion 2 still—"
"Ms. Ailoraw, who are you wearing—"
"Ms. Ailoraw, what do you have to say about—"
"Can we take them one by one, please?" Pinz suggested, putting up her best smile as she started walking toward the entrance.
...
Eh, what do you know? Of course, she had to be here, Beralaxon thought in frustration as he leaned out the window to take a look at the manor far ahead. From a distance, he could only make out a sea of media crew around the entrance, but the big screens on either side vividly displayed what was happening. "We're being held up by that airheaded Felitte actress who's everywhere these days," Beralaxon announced as he saw Pinz Ailoraw on the screens talking to reporters as she ascended the marble steps leading to the entrance.
Beralaxon wore a turquoise jacket with silver pinstripes and light-gray trousers. Underneath was a sea-green vest, a light-blue dress shirt with silver pinstripes, and a turquoise ascot. His vintage Zapstromiss watch was on his wrist, while an antique, silver pocket watch with a white dial dangled from his right trouser pocket. His shoes were light-tan with beige soles.
"I hope this is the only timing we screw up tonight," Glacia said.
Her ankle-length silk gown was purple with one short sleeve to the right. A sheer, sparkly, mauve fabric wrapped around her torso, which extended downward to form a knee-length overskirt draping on all sides but the front and extended upward to tie in a knot on her left shoulder. Her shoes were purple, high-heeled sandals with pale-lavender straps. She wore a beaded, mauve necklace and a matching bracelet on her left wrist. Her wavy, black hair was let loose and adorned with a mauve flower-shaped ornament on the left of her head.
"Don't worry, she'll go away soon enough," Florinok reassured. "Beralaxon's auction doesn't start in another half-hour. Ravelta's auction starts even later, and we don't even have to be there on time."
Florinok's dress consisted of a strapless, lime, satin bodice and a ruffled, layered lime skirt with a tilted hemline so that it stopped at her right knee and continued to floor-length over her left foot. Her sheer, royal-blue, floor-length petticoat was visible on her right leg. On her waist was a broad sash brimming with light- and royal-blue flowers with lime centers. She wore translucent, light-blue gloves extending to her upper arms. Her necklace was adorned with flowers matching her sash and was connected to the bodice with a royal-blue strip of sheer fabric. Most of her long hair was loose, some bunched into a side ponytail with a lime hair tie.
"And she'll take those pesky reporters away with her," Zablaron said, running a hand through his hair. "All the better for us."
Zablaron wore a double-breasted maroon tailcoat with rose-gold buttons. Underneath was a lilac vest, a dark-brown dress shirt, and a maroon ascot. His corduroy trousers were sandy brown with dark-brown ribbing. His dark-brown boots were calf-length with two maroon straps. His silver hair was neatly slicked back.
Quite some time passed as the Felitte actress weaved through the crowd and disappeared inside the manor, followed by a gaggle of media crew. Finally, their SUV pulled over in front of the entrance.
"Here we go," Beralaxon said, letting out a puff of breath.
They all got out as the chauffeur continued to the parking. A handful of remaining reporters scurried over and thrust their microphones at them.
"Ms. Lepyhte, there have been reports that the Mad Diver pandemic—"
"Mr. Inrazax, you and Ms. Tielin seem to have recently buried the—"
...
They stood in the grand foyer of the manor, floored with luxurious marble in patterns of white squares bordered by brilliant maroons. It was polished to perfection, with reflections so clear it seemed like a parallel world thrived under the floor. Massive golden chandeliers hung from the ornately decorated ceiling, casting an enchanting glow over the interior.
A soft melody played in the background, mingling with the hum and chatter. Guests socialized, some seated on plush couches arranged around tables, some huddled in groups, and most with drinks in hand, while servers in blue-and-red uniforms roamed around, carrying delicacies in their silver platters. A grand staircase with golden banisters and a red carpet was situated at the far end of the foyer. Ornate doors lined the walls and led into halls and event rooms.
"Welcome, Ms. Ailoraw," the manager assigned to Pinz's event hall greeted.
The manager was a plump woman dressed in a neat skirt suit with golden, neck-length hair in exquisite curls. She wore the seal of House Tawanis on her coat. "He arrived two hours earlier, Ms. Ailoraw. He is now waiting in your makeup room," she said in an affectedly pleasant manner.
"Thank you," Pinz replied with a smile. "The equipment is waiting in my car. Could that be arranged to be brought in, please?"
"Of course, Ms. Ailoraw," the manager replied. "Now, this way." She motioned ahead before she started walking in that direction.
They followed the manager across the foyer before turning right. They entered through a pair of ornate doors into a spacious hall with a stage at one end and dozens of circular tables with seats in front.
"Splendid," Pinz said delightfully, clasping her hands together. "Let's start, then," she said to the manager as much as she did to Jayrock and Doxonica behind her.
...
"Ah, Mr. Ducelest!" the manager exclaimed. He was lean, with greased black hair parted in the middle, matching his oiled mustache. "We were waiting for you!" he said as he handed Beralaxon's holophone back to him.
"Sorry for the wait," Beralaxon apologized as he pocketed his holophone. "We were held up by—"
"No worries," the manager said with a wave. "We are still expecting two more guests. Meanwhile, allow me to show you to the auction hall."
The manager led them across the foyer before stopping at a door to the left, a few yards short of the grand staircase at the end of the lobby.
"She's gone into that hall evidently," Florinok said softly as she noticed a crowd entering a door across the foyer, just opposite where they stood.
"Who?" Glacia asked absentmindedly as she took out her holophone.
"Ailoraw," Florinok said as she observed manor staff leading two trolleys covered in white sheets inside the other hall.
"Who cares?" Glacia replied as they entered the auction hall.
"Wherever she goes, trouble follows," Beralaxon replied.
Glacia raised her eyebrow at him.
"Here you are, Mr. Ducelest," the manager chirped as he turned inside the hall to face them.
An auctioneer stood in a sharp tuxedo at a podium at the far end of the spacious auction hall. Two dozen plush high-backed chairs with gold inlay were set in an arc facing him. Most were filled with bidders holding holopads except for three vacant seats.
Behind the bidders, the rest of the guests were gathered in anticipation, awaiting the initiation of the auction.
"Could you take your seat for me, please, Mr. Ducelest?" the manager said politely as he indicated a vacant seat.
"My pleasure," Beralaxon said as he crossed the crowd of guests and headed to the seat. He glanced at the other bidders to see if he recognized anyone.
To his right was the second-youngest princess of Neuraxios, Princess Mypsi, who was the curator of her own museum on her home planet. She held her head of long, auburn hair high, and her sparkling blue eyes were fixed straight ahead, apparently not taking any note of her surroundings. Beralaxon had once visited her museum and had only managed to cover the Ancient Neurax section in the three days he was there — he never got to see the rest.
Three seats to his left was Vaiquar Samerrs, a tennis champion from Azurine. He wore a traditional Azune outfit consisting of a sailor's vest and cap with striped pants. He narrowed his eyes at Beralaxon. Still bitter at your defeat, huh? Beralaxon thought as he felt a smile creeping on his lips.
Beralaxon cast one last glance back at the others standing far behind in the crowd before he picked up his holopad and took his seat.
"I don't see Scyfe here," Florinok said as she surveyed the hall.
Ferrina had given them eleventh-hour intel regarding the Princess of Wystalline, and they were to contact her.
"We'll find her eventually if she's here," Zablaron said. "She's not our primary objective anyway. Let's focus on getting to Ravelta's auction."
"Right. One thing at a time," Glacia said.
...
Heraclark crept along the hedge maze in the adjoining garden, making sure to avoid being spotted by the guards. He carried an unassuming gray bag in his hands while a similar one was on his shoulders. He had extracted them from the stretch and snuck into the gardens.
The bags contained almost everything essential for the next phase of their plan. However, they could not have been brought inside the manor from the front entrance without the security checking them. So the team had to devise another way to sneak them inside.
Heraclark peered around the edge. The walls of the manor stood firm a few yards ahead. He saw two guards in suits to his far-right standing beside a small pond.
He turned his attention back to the manor. His desired window was in sight, looming a couple dozen feet above. Guess I have no choice but to wait. He wondered how far along the plan the others were.
And to evade detection until then, he thought as he heard soft footsteps on grass vaguely approaching his way.
He left his position and meandered forward until he came across a gazebo. With one hand, he extended a smoky, dark-orchid tendril that wrapped around the gazebo's roof. Clutching his cargo with the other hand, he retracted the tendril and pulled himself over. He ducked at its center as he waited for the footsteps to pass.
It reminded him of how he used to hide in his father's workshop in the basement of his home, clutching his father's equipment — something he used to cherish a lifetime ago, but the memory had been tainted ever since. And Heraclark did not enjoy hiding now... not one bit.
...
"So, without further ado" — Pinz announced from the podium at the stage — "let's begin tonight's screening. Jayrock? Doxonica?" she addressed them while motioning toward the guests.
A hundred heads turned to the back to look at where Jayrock and Doxonica stood with their hands on a trolley each.
Pompous oafs, Jayrock thought. He was not used to being looked at as merely a curious detail in the room. Probably think everyone is beneath them.
Good grief. Sweat began forming on Doxonica's brow. It felt as if every face was analyzing her, sizing her up, suspecting her true motives for being there.
"Are you alright?" Jayrock asked gently.
Oh, but they are all idiots, honeybunch, Doxonica heard Grandma's voice. "Yes. Thank you," Doxonica replied, composing herself.
"Good. Let's go, then," Jayrock said.
They removed the white sheets covering the trolleys and placed them on their lower shelves. Then, they began pushing their trolleys down the room between the guests' tables.
"My friends will distribute hologoggles to all of you," Pinz said into the microphone. "Since we will be screening exclusive footage from Bion 2, and there is a lot of media personnel present here, this is to ensure that no part of the movie gets leaked." And to make you mind your own business, but we'll omit that, Pinz thought. Can't believe I am omitting something.
Next to each table, they stopped and fished inside the boxes lying on the tops of the trolleys. They produced hologoggles and handed them to the guests, who passed them along until everyone at the table had one.
"As you watch the exclusive clips from my upcoming movie, I want you to be aware that I play an Elemort in this one and its predecessor," Pinz went on as the goggles were being distributed. "Just as recently as a couple months ago, an Elemort was a mythical being for all I knew — a popular trope in science fiction and action movies.
"Now, with rumors of a certain project abound and the harrowing tales we have heard from the victims, it might not be a legend anymore. Instead, it may be a terrifying reality. As such, the team behind Bion 2 has decided that some scenes in the movie may need to be altered if they are deemed insensitive regarding the suffering inflicted on the survivors — if needs be, the project may be scrapped altogether. Of course, we will try to preserve the director, Bastelle Tygene's vision as much as possible. But based on your feedback and our team's own sensibilities, some changes may be in order. The last thing we want to do is to glorify a concept that may bring about traumatic memories for some.
"And so, I implore you to watch these clips being screened exclusively for you with a critical eye. Let us know what you liked and what you think may be distasteful. I'll be looking forward to hearing from all of you."
Murmurs began to float in the room, which soon loudened into gushing chatter. Guests examined the goggles in their hands and tinkered with them. Others leaned over to exchange comments in hushed tones.
Eventually, Jayrock and Doxonica made their way to the stage. They produced a holoprojector from a trolley and placed it on a small table.
"Let's begin," Pinz said. "Lights out, please."
...
"Let the bidding commence!" the auctioneer announced at her podium. The final two guests had arrived and were seated. "Use your holopads to enter the bids. If you experience any trouble, feel free to call for my assistance."
The guests immediately began tapping on their holopads, putting in their bids. Beralaxon shot Samerrs a sneering look before he remembered one important thing. You are not here to win, Beralaxon.
He did wish he was. The auction was for an ancient Riflare empress's golden mask recently uncovered from her tomb. It was said that no one at the court had ever seen the empress' face nor heard her real voice as the mask distorted it when she spoke. It was also said that she had lived to be three-hundred years old. Of course, now everyone knew what was probably going on.
"Beralaxon?" Glacia said as she tapped on her earpiece. She watched him at the far end of the room as he stared intently at the artifact inside a display next to the auctioneer. "I am still not in. What are you doing?"
"Sorry," Beralaxon replied through the earpiece. "On it."
He reached into his trouser pocket and turned on the router inside.
"And we begin with ninety learts," the auctioneer chimed as the first bid appeared on a screen behind her. "Let's keep it up."
Glacia's holophone immediately picked up the signals. "Alright," she said. "Reboot your holopad, now."
"Doing it."
As she waited for the holopad to reboot, she piggybacked onto the router's signals, ready to pounce.
The holopad soon appeared on the list of nearby devices on Glacia's holophone. "Hmm, let's see," she said as she tapped at it. She began entering commands to bypass the security firewalls and gain access. Here I am, doing sneaky things once again, she thought. I have been giving Gelatia a run for her money.
"Alright, I am in the system," Glacia said after a moment. "It's up to you guys now."
"Good," Zablaron replied. "I am heading for the cellar now."
"And I to the office," Florinok said.
"Good luck," Glacia said.
...
Jayrock emerged from the room and into the foyer. Pinz's guests were busy with the screening, with goggles on their eyes, so no one had noticed him slip outside.
He turned his attention toward the grand staircase at the far end of the foyer to his right. Only guests with special invites were allowed to go upstairs to attend the exclusive events being held up there.
But it was not upstairs that concerned Jayrock at the moment. Instead, he discreetly walked across the foyer, vaguely in the staircase's direction. He moved past the base of the stairs, where a pair of guards checked the guests' invites, and continued walking along one side of the staircase.
He soon stopped next to a door built into its side. He looked around. The crowd in the foyer had thinned as compared to before, mainly because Pinz's screening had pulled in a large chunk of it while others were settled at their respective events. A few people walked past him into the bar in the next hall from where Jayrock stood.
It was the downstairs that concerned Jayrock. He gradually inched his way closer to the door on the side of the staircase. When the coast was clear, he reached for it, stepped inside, and quickly shut it behind him.
Stairs led from the door to a landing below, while an identical set of stairs led from a door opposite him. Then, at a right angle, some more steps descended from the landing into a cellar.
Doxonica's voice emitted from his earpiece as he strode down the stairs. "I'm in position, Heraclark," she was saying. "Be ready."
"I am," Heraclark responded. "Where is Jayrock?"
"Made my way into the cellar," Jayrock replied as he stepped into the dimly lit space. He was surrounded by a maze of racks, gigantic boxes, and casks brimming with foodstuff and beverages. "I'll let you know when I cut the power."
"I think I will notice," Heraclark said.
"Oh... right," Jayrock said. "I mean, I'll let you know when I'm about to cut the power."
Through the gap between some goods on a rack, Jayrock noticed a server coming from the other way. He quickly ducked behind a cask as the server walked past him, a silver platter in hand. Jayrock watched as the server disappeared up the steps Jayrock had come from.
...
Zablaron headed past the guards posted at the base of the grand staircase. He walked along its left side until he spotted a door built into it.
He flinched as the door suddenly opened. A server emerged bearing a platter with little sandwiches. They were held in place by picks with olives on top.
The server paused for a moment as she saw Zablaron.
"Would sir like some sandwiches?" the server asked politely as she extended the platter.
"No, thank you," Zablaron said, putting up a hand. "I was looking for the bar."
"Oh, it's the next hall, sir," the server said, pointing with her free hand to an open door at the end of the foyer.
"Thank you," Zablaron said and started walking toward the door the server had mentioned.
He discreetly turned his head to watch where she had gone. He noticed her stopping by some guests to offer them the sandwiches, her back turned toward Zablaron.
He lunged toward the door on the side of the staircase, let himself inside, and immediately shut it.
"I'm in," Zablaron whispered, tapping on his earpiece as he descended some steps.
...
"Copy that, Zablaron," Glacia's voice responded through the comms. "Alright, Floinok, remember it has to be as close as possible."
"Mm-hmm," Florinok replied as she entered the office at the front of the manor.
"Come in, Ms. Lepyhte," the manager said, sitting behind his desk. "Have a seat. You wanted to see me?"
"I did," Florinok said as she advanced toward the chair.
It was a lightly furnished room but still managed to have an imposing atmosphere. The floor was covered with a fine, pale-gray carpet, matching the upholstery. A sleek, black desk was placed at the end opposite the door. Larger plants were placed in pots at the room's corners, while smaller ones adorned the desk, shelves, and cupboards, bestowing some vibrancy to the room.
"What can I do for you?" the manager inquired companionably as he watched Florinok take her seat.
"First of all, I must admit," Florinok began as she noticed the circular device at the desk's center. His holotop, she thought. That was where the auction, among other events, was being operated from and where the bidders' holopads were connected. "This event is at a far larger scale than I ever imagined."
"You humble us, Ms. Lepyhte," the manager replied, nodding. "I take it it's your first year attending? Those are usually the sentiments of someone witnessing the splendor for the first time. Mr. Tawanis's galas are always a sight to behold. And his esteemed family has been organizing them for the past thirty years."
"That makes it even more remarkable," Florinok said, puckering her chin. "Anyway, I wanted to take advantage of this for my company, Curavez Pharmaceuticals."
She discreetly considered the desk. There was a partition on its underside so that the manager's legs were only visible to her from his knees down. She imagined it was the same for him.
"In what way, Ms. Lepyhte?" The manager leaned forward, clasping his hands together.
"I am aware this is at short notice — otherwise, I might have tried my luck with Mr. Tawanis himself. But, as I said, I had no idea about the extent of the event and the veritable guest list," Florinok said, letting her lips curl into a smile. "But it may not be too late to consult you just for the room with the Riflare mask auction."
Florinok reached into a pocket at her waist, sewn into the underside of the hemline of her dress.
"Anything, Ms. Lepyhte," the manager said, gazing at Florinok in anticipation.
"I believe this is an excellent opportunity for promotion," Florinok said as she took out a small device hidden from the manager's view. "Is it possible to install some banners in the room for my company? I noticed several advertisements from other brands."
"Oh," the manager said resignedly as he leaned back into his chair. "I am afraid that will not be possible, Ms. Lepyhte."
"You haven't even heard my offer," Florinok said in mock dismay. She formed a forest-green vine in her hand and let it grasp the device.
"No need, my lady."
Florinok extended the vine underneath the desk, as close to the holotop above as possible.
"It cannot be done now," the manager was saying. "All the promotions have been paid for by their respective brands. Everyone was informed beforehand of the space we had reserved for advertisements. If they see us adding more at this moment, when the gala is well underway, it will harm our reputation. I hope you understand that."
The device stuck to the underside.
"Ms. Lephyte?"
Florinok quickly withdrew her vine. "Oh, I definitely understand, sir. Sorry to take your time."
"It's quite alright, Ms. Lephyte. Anything else I could help you with?"
"That will be all," Florinok said, getting up with a smile. "Thank you."
"Enjoy the evening, Ms. Lephyte," the manager said pleasantly.
...
Who is doing that? Zablaron thought in vexation.
He was sneaking past a doorway that led to the locker room. He itched to head inside to look for staff uniform, but he knew it was pointless. It would take too long to shed his suit and don the uniform.
Zablaron could see that the camera at the end of the corridor had already been disabled. It was the fourth camera he had encountered in this state.
The first time he had encountered one in the pantry, Zablaron had assumed it was out of order. The second time, near the kitchens, had raised suspicions. Now, he was sure someone was tampering with them. And it had to have been done recently, as otherwise the staff would have eventually noticed and had them working again.
He reached the end of the corridor and emerged into a spacious, vaulted room. It was all concrete, supported by pillars in places.
Zablaron took cover behind a pillar and scoped the area.
Doorways led to other sections of the basement, and Zablaron could hear various sounds emanating from them — the patter of footsteps, voices raised over whirring machines, servers beeping.
He noticed the camera poised over the doorway leading to the power room. Disabled. So that's where they went. Zablaron debated if he should stalk whoever it was. If something fishy was afoot, other than what he and his team were doing, it could have been worthwhile knowing what it was.
Don't have the time for it right now, he decided eventually. Beralaxon's auction could not run forever, he knew. He spied the server room's doorway opposite the power room entrance. The camera there was still functional.
From his hiding spot, Zablaron let his hand slide beyond the pillar and emitted steel-blue magnetic waves. The camera beeped, and its light turned red.
Making sure the coast was clear, Zablaron made a dash for the doorway.
...
Jayrock pointed the small EMP device at the camera and tapped at it. The device glowed for a millisecond, and Jayrock knew the feed had been scrambled, playing the same scene on a loop.
He was crouched behind a plastic bin with overflowing electrical equipment just outside the door to the power room.
"Jayrock? What's the status?" Heraclark asked. "I can't keep playing hide-and-seek here."
"And the screening has just about seven minutes left," Pinz added.
"Wait," Jayrock urged. "I'm just outside the power room. Give me two more minutes."
"Don't worry," Doxonica assured. "We'll be ready when you are."
A technician passed by, pushing a cart loaded with electronic equipment.
Two entered the power room, chatting as they walked.
As everything fell quiet for a moment, except for the constant background whirring, Jayrock sprinted toward the door and entered the room. He was faced with a sprawling, white-tiled room lined with dozens of intersecting rows and columns of electrical panels jutting out of the floor. Glowing blue power cores in metallic containment units were fixed to walls all around, imparting a sickly bluish hue to the room.
Grilled catwalks lined the ceiling above, giving access to more consoles and conduits overhead.
Jayrock discreetly snuck in between some panels. Amid the ambient beeping and humming, he could hear the handful of technicians in the room, idly chattering, pacing around, the metallic thumping of footsteps on catwalks overhead, bolting this, hammering at that.
Jayrock took out his holophone and projected the room layout they had procured. He noted his desired panel was about five rows to the east from where he stood. Pocketing his holophone, he set to make his way over.
Through the bluish haze, he navigated through the maze of panels, taking note of the numbers on them to keep track of where he was going.
Presently, he became cognizant of clanging footsteps overhead, slowly drawing closer before pausing. A bit of tinkering with equipment followed as voices wafted down.
Then, the footsteps resumed. Jayrock steadied his breath as he plastered himself to the closest panel.
For now, the panel hid him, but he knew that if whoever was coming approached directly overhead, they would be able to spot Jayrock through the grilled catwalks.
He could not risk moving away from the panel either, or he could be spotted even from a distance.
As the footsteps dragged closer, Jayrock silently sidled down the row of panels, keeping as close to them as possible. He moved farther away from the sound of the footsteps.
When he reached the end of the line, he slipped around the corner and paused at the narrow end of the row. He then discreetly swiveled his head around it and peeked back up its opposite side before focusing on the overhead catwalks.
Two technicians were bent over a fuse box above, a few inches away from Jayrock's earlier position. They had their backs to him now.
Abruptly, they stood back up. Jayrock immediately snatched his head back around the corner, plastered to the narrow end of the row.
He sensed the footsteps passing over the row before moving away.
Jayrock breathed a sigh of relief and turned his head back toward where he was headed.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" A technician stood facing him, eyes furrowed, fingers clutching a wrench tightly.
Jayrock cleared his throat. "I'm... I'm... lost," he began, deciding what to say next. How could I be so careless? he cursed at himself.
Meanwhile, the technician subtly turned his head, never letting his eyes off Jayrock. Jayrock watched as he, the technician, opened his mouth.
Sensing what the technician was about to do, Jayrock immediately formed deep-saffron sand in his hand and launched it at him.
A fit of cough seized the technician. Jayrock lunged and held his neck in a chokehold as the sand settled. He held on tightly as the other man struggled, clawing at Jayrock's arms.
Once the technician passed out, Jayrock let go and checked his pulse.
Jayrock again breathed a sigh of relief as he felt it bounding. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the unconscious man. "You'll be fine."
He gently deposited him next to the row of panels before continuing on his way. Heraclark can't find out about this, or he'll never let me hear the end of it, he decided.
He steadily made his way, twice circling around, when he heard someone coming the other way.
Finally, he reached his desired panel. "Heraclark, Doxonica," he whispered into his earpiece. "I'm here. Ready?"
"Ready," said Heraclark.
"Ready," said Doxonica.
"Remember, we only have five seconds when I do this. Here goes," Jayrock said. "Count to three."
...
As Doxonica stood by the window at the back corner of the room, her hand on a trolley, she quickly glanced at the guests. Through the sparse lighting, she saw silhouettes around tables, with rectangular bulges where their eyes would have been. It appeared as if they had been captured in a trance. Doxonica could not see, but she knew Pinz sat on a couch nearest the stage.
She snapped her head back to look at the garden outside the glass window. As her count to three finished, the world outside went dark.
Doxonica emitted hot-pink ultrasonic waves from her palm. The waves threw the double panels of the window open.
Next, she released deep-sky-blue infrasonic waves from her entire body to sense Heraclark's location. There he is! She detected him perched on top of a structure nearby. Something was advancing toward her from his direction.
Heraclark extended the purple tendrils closer to the window from atop the gazebo. They were wrapped around the gray bags, bringing them closer to Doxonica, who stood waiting at the other end.
Doxonica snatched the bags from the tendrils, placed them inside the trolley, and covered them with a white sheet. Then, she hurried to close the windows.
She had barely withdrawn her hands from the windows when the power outside was back on. The garden was once again brightly lit. Steadying her breath, Doxonica looked at the guests in the room. None of the silhouettes moved. None the wiser, Doxonica thought.
"The backup power must have kicked in by now," Jayrock said in the earpiece. "Did you guys do it?"
"Yes, I got the equipment," Doxonica said. "Pinz? I am bringing it to your makeup room."
"Mm-hmm," Pinz's reply came.
"I'll head to the cellar now," Heraclark said. "Jayrock, what about you?"
"I got out of the power room," Jayrock said. "See you soon."
Doxonica pushed the trolley down the edge of the room toward the stage.
Pinz turned to the manager seated next to her on the sofa. "If you don't mind, I will retire backstage now," Pinz whispered. "The screening is about to finish anyway."
"Of course, Ms. Ailoraw."
"Would you be so kind as to hand out the surveys later? I might not stick around for too long," Pinz said as she got up from the sofa. "I have some matters to attend to."
"Don't worry, Ms. Ailoraw," the manager said pleasantly as she stood up. "I will take care of everything. Do you need anything else?"
"Just my makeup kit. But my friend is already bringing that in for me. Thank you," Pinz said and made her way around the stage toward the backstage. As she turned her head, she could see Doxonica heading in her direction, pushing the trolley along.
...
Glacia watched through the crowd as Beralaxon turned his head back toward her and Florinok. He discreetly shook his head with a look of distress on his face.
"Time's running out," Florinok said.
Where is Zablaron? Glacia wondered. She wrapped her arms around herself as suddenly she felt colder than on Cryovrost. What if this was a mistake? What if it doesn't work out? Surely, we'll get caught at some point.
She shook her head. It would help if you actually did something instead of freaking out, she told herself.
Glacia tapped at her earpiece. "What's the status, Zablaron? Beralaxon can't raise the bids for much longer. He might actually win!"
"I'm almost there," Zablaron whispered a reply. "I just can't get past these guys. They are very agitated for some reason."
"Do you need help? Where are you?" Florinok chimed in.
...
Zablaron stood plastered at a corner. He turned his head and scanned the corridor ahead. The entire left wall was clear glass with a set of doors in the middle. At its end, the passage turned to the right. Beyond that bend was the server room, Zablaron knew.
"Just up a corridor from the server room," Zablaron whispered. "There's the staff office along the corridor's left wall. I would have made it past them if they weren't so ruffled." It must be something to do with the darn idiot running around to the power room, he thought.
"There are computers there," Glacia recalled from their planning. "Connect your holophone to mine, and spot something I could tamper with to distract them."
Zablaron peeked around the corner and quickly scanned the office along the left side of the corridor. It was a large room with a big screen lining the wall opposite the doors and cubicles spread out at intervals. Some staff stood around in the room, gesticulating wildly and barking commands in their transceivers. Others raced around the room from one terminal to another or frantically tapped at their computers. Zablaron tried to make out what they were saying through the din.
"How long was he unconscious? Could he recognize who did it?"
"Sweep the cellars!"
A staff member was about to turn his head toward the corner where Zablaron stood when Zablaron yanked his head back. He took out his holophone and let it connect to Glacia's. "There's a big screen in there taking up an entire wall. Can you do something with it?"
"I believe so. Let me try connecting to it," Glacia said.
...
"So? Can you tell it's me?" Pinz asked as she swayed from side to side.
Doxonica considered Pinz from head to toe. "I couldn't until you spoke up," she said coyly.
They were in the makeup room, and Pinz had just gotten up from the dresser. Presently, she placed her arms on her hips and stared at Doxonica.
Doxonica supposed Pinz's eyebrows were raised, but Pinz wore oversized, red shades that concealed them. Her hair was hidden inside a blonde, neck-length wig. Her face had a ruddy glow thanks to a generous smearing of blush.
She had cast off her original dress, revealing the dress she had been wearing underneath all along. It was a satin, one-piece, red jumpsuit with a tube top and flare pants. A golden sash was around her waist, and she was now wearing beige, flat-soled sandals.
Doxonica put up her hands. "Alright, alright... I can't recognize you anymore. Honest."
"Good. I suppose it will be fun roaming around unnoticed for a while," Pinz said wistfully. "Anyway, go join the others. I'd better get going now." She picked up the two gray bags Doxonica had brought inside the trolley and crisscrossed them around her shoulders.
Then, she eyed a skylight situated high above them.
...
"It's still not overloading," Glacia said through the comms. "Let me run some more heavy-duty functions."
"Waiting," Zablaron replied, hiding behind a metal casing across from the corner.
After a while, Zablaron heard a loud pop followed by a hiss coming from inside the office.
"Zablaron, the screen has gone offline. I think it worked!" Glacia said urgently.
A commotion had erupted inside the office. Multiple voices wailed at what had transpired.
"It definitely has," Zablaron said and rushed out of his position.
He dashed toward the corridor and halted momentarily to look inside the office. All heads were turned toward the big screen at the opposite wall. Smoke was billowing in wisps from it.
Zablaron sprinted across the corridor, turned around the bend, made for the door ahead, and stepped inside before quickly closing the door behind him.
Finally, the server room, Zablaron thought in relief. "I made it inside," he informed the others.
"Good," Glacia replied. "Fry them."
"Gladly." Zablaron stepped into the middle of the rows of servers inside the room. He mustered all his enertrons before releasing steel-blue magnetic waves with as much intensity as possible.
...
"There seems to be a problem with my holopad," Princess Mypsi said, gently clasping her hands.
"Mine isn't working either," Beralaxon joined in. Zablaron finally did it. He debated if he was relieved he wouldn't have to make any more of his phony bids or sad at the thought that the beautiful mask would soon be in Samerrs' grubby hands.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, esteemed guests," the auctioneer said from the podium. "The problem has come to my notice as well. However, I assure you the system will reboot within the next few seconds, and your bids will be perfectly safe. Ah, it has rebooted already! Once again, I apologize for this hiccup. Let us continue!"
"Did it work?" Florinok said, peering over Glacia's shoulder at her holophone.
"It did," Glacia said. While the servers had rebooted and the firewalls were temporarily disabled, Glacia had used Beralaxon's holopad to gain unrestricted access to the holotop in the main manor office, aided by the router Florinok had planted there. "Let's get ourselves some exclusive tickets."
...
Pinz leaped away from the windowsill and grabbed onto the railing ahead. She quickly pulled herself over and stepped onto the balcony. She briefly looked down over the edge. The garden was several dozen feet below her now, aglow with lighting all over. From high above, she could make out guards as little black specks dawdling around. The manor walls stretched down below her, thick and sturdy, lined with glass-stained doors and windows.
As the salty breeze blowing from the bay tugged at her hair and clothes, she bounded across the balcony before leaping over the railing on the other side. She grasped a horizontal flagpole sticking out of the manor's wall with a banner hanging from it. She vaulted over it before jumping toward the next flagpole.
After traversing four of them, she let out a burst of dark-orange feline energy from her soles and sailed upward and forward through the air before grabbing another railing. She hauled herself over it and ran up two flights of stairs.
She found herself in a courtyard full of decorative shrubbery. In the middle was a gazebo with benches underneath.
Pinz bounded upward, propelled by feline energy, and landed on its top. She leaped once again before grabbing a metal latticework decorating a wall overhead. She scaled it to the top before finally reaching her target — a window leading into the exclusive gala area.
She cautiously raised her head and peered inside. The hallway at the other end was deserted.
Pinz let her arms flash with orange tiger stripes before she yanked at the metal grating covering the window. Then, as enough space was created, she squeezed through it and pushed the window inward. The panels creaked in protest as they bent the wrong way.
Pinz took another look to ensure the coast was clear before hopping inside.
She tightened the bags around her shoulders before heading down the corridor. She could hear a soft melody playing somewhere in a nearby hall, along with ambient chatter.
"Pinz, where are you?" Heraclark's voice emitted through the earpiece. "They are sweeping the cellars. You need to get us out now."
"I am coming! Almost made it," Pinz whispered back.
She tiptoed down, scanning the doors around her before she finally spotted a swinging door labeled exit.
...
"Are you feeling quite alright, Ducelest?" Samerrs asked with a triumphant grin on his face. "I mean, you tried so hard."
"Oh, yes, I am," Beralaxon said, getting up. "Actually, I have another auction to be at."
"Oh. Isn't losing one enough for you for today?" Samerrs said.
"We'll see who wins the next one," Beralaxon said as he placed his holopad on the seat. "See you upstairs... unless you're not invited there?" Please, let him not be, Beralaxon thought anxiously.
Samerrs narrowed his eyes but did not respond.
He is not, Beralaxon thought, relieved. "Anyway, enjoy the mask," Beralaxon added.
"Beralaxon!" Glacia said into her earpiece. She could not hear Beralaxon at the end of the room, but she surmised they were exchanging barbs from his expressions and those of the man next to him. "We have no time for this. Let's head upstairs."
In the main manor office holotop, Glacia had found the template for the exclusive tickets for the events upstairs, near the back of the manor. She had made four copies and edited them to add their names before she sent a copy each to Zablaron's, Florinok's, and Beralaxon's holophones.
They exited the auction and regrouped in the foyer, where Zablaron awaited them.
"I managed to get out of there when they were still preoccupied with the screen," Zablaron said. "But now, it's crazy down there."
"Well, we don't have to worry about that anymore," Florinok said. "Let's go."
They approached the grand staircase.
"May I see your tickets, please, sirs and madams?" the guard politely asked.
All four of them produced their holophones.
...
Pinz cascaded down the last flight of stairs before she entered the cellars at this end of the manor.
She crouched, sneaking between tables adorned with a dazzling array of delicacies and beverages before entering an area filled with sturdy racks. She pushed on and came across a wooden, double-paneled door with metal frames. Its handles were chained and held in place with a heavy lock.
Pinz could hack at it and break it, but it would make too much noise. Instead, she extended a claw on her index finger and inserted it into the keyhole. She twisted her claw, trying to sense the click.
Finally, she unlocked it, gently placed it aside with the chain, and threw the door open.
"Took you long enough," Jayrock said, emerging with the others from behind some barrels on the other side.
"Let's go!" Doxonica said urgently.
"Here, give one of the bags to me," Heraclark said. Pinz handed it to him, and he slung it over his shoulder.
They closed the door behind them before they quickly made their way to the stairs Pinz had come from.
As they ascended the stairs, Doxonica trailed behind them, gathering her dress and trying not to trip over.
"Ah, I have had enough," she finally snapped. She pointed her palms toward the steps at her feet. Then she released powerful pink sound waves. The force propelled her through the air, and she landed on the next flight of stairs.
"Sweet," Pinz said and followed suit by releasing orange energy from her soles.
As the girls leaped their way above, Heraclark grabbed Jayrock.
"Hey!" Jayrock protested.
Heraclark wrapped purple tendrils around the balustrade and pulled Jayrock and himself above.
Finally, they made it out of the door Pinz had come from and emerged into the corridor.
"I think the events are that way," Doxonica said, pointing toward ornate double doors at the end of the corridor. She could hear music at the other end.
"Let's go one at a time," Jayrock said. "It will be easier to blend in with the crowd that way."
Jayrock let the others exit the corridor one by one before he followed. Finally, he alighted in a vast lobby with an enormous chandelier shining brightly overhead, casting a muted golden glow over the marble floor. Guests were streaming in from the grand staircase to his left and moving toward various doors on this level.
Jayrock fell in with the crowd and hurriedly caught up with the others.
"Alright, we gotta make our way to the back and move outdoors toward the bay," Jayrock said. "That's where the dragonsalt operation is—"
Suddenly, Jayrock felt a violent tug on his shoulder that forcefully turned him around.
"Hey, who the heck do you—" Jayrock stopped short as he saw who he was face to face with. "You!" he seethed.
"Well, I'll be darned. Look what I found... a rat scurrying in our midst," Zablaron hissed at the Grebrik.
Jayrock glared at Zablaron Inrazax. "Well... what can I say? Takes one to know one," Jayrock snapped. "Did you miss me all this time?"
"Can't say I did. So, it was you who made that mess in the basement," Zablaron said. "Do you often screw things up like this?"
"At least he doesn't start epidemics like your friend right here," Pinz said, stepping forward. She made sure to alter her inflections and cadence. "Florinok Lephyte. How much did you make off of it so far?" she added, keeping her eyes on Lepyhte.
"What?" Florinok said incredulously as she moved forward. "Are you out of your mind, lady? You should be careful running your mouth like that."
"Or what?" Pinz shot back. "Are you here to spread it again, like in Brivil?"
Glacia looked around. Several people were pausing to look at the confrontation, whispering to one another. Great going, Zablaron. We are running out of time!
"You must be one of those annoying media persons. You certainly look the type," Florinok scoffed. "You and your ilk will say anything as long as it gets you your ratings."
"I knew you three looked familiar from somewhere," Beralaxon spoke up. "You were with that insufferable actress in her press conference. You're working for her, aren't you? What stunt is she going to pull off here?"
"Interesting," Zablaron said thoughtfully. "And you left her behind downstairs. Who even let you in here without her?"
"We really have no time for you and your ridiculous questions, buzzard," Heraclark retorted. "Bore off to whatever scummy business you have here."
"I am warning you all," Zablaron growled. "Your friend was lucky he escaped last time," he said, fixing his stare at the Grebrik. "But if we find any of you causing any trouble for us, we—"
"How about I knock out all your teeth? Would that count as 'causing trouble'?" Heraclark advanced toward Zablaron Inrazax, balling up his fists. Purple, smoky wisps swirled around them.
Zablaron raised his fists, forming light-salmon, metal blades on them. "Bring it on, pal."
"Heraclark!" Doxonica said and put a hand on Heraclark's shoulder before getting in his way. "Leave him. Look!" she said, pointing toward a man who had just climbed the stairs.
Everyone turned to where Doxonica was pointing. A man with a graying beard and mustache and heavy spectacles advanced through the crowd, escorted by a pair of guards. His thinning hair was slicked back while he was dressed in a dark-green suit. Presently, he passed them by and moved into the foyer before turning and disappearing into a hallway.
Oblitz! Jayrock thought as he passed a look to the other three.
That's the person whose technology is being auctioned off under Ravelta's supervision! Zablaron thought. What do they have to do with him? "It seems like our paths will inevitably cross again," Zablaron said out loud as he turned back to face the other group. "We'll be watching you. Next time we see you, we won't be dealing with just words."
"Looking forward to that," Heraclark shot back.
"Better stay out of our way, then," Jayrock said. He might as well have been exhaling flames from his nostrils.
"C'mon, guys," Glacia said to the other three. "We have no time to lose." She got in between the two groups and prodded her friends to move.
The two groups separated before casting menacing looks each other's way.
"So, what about Oblitz?" Pinz asked as they headed toward the end of the foyer. "It seems those other jerks have something to do with him."
"Let's get to the dragonsalt operation first and scope it out," Jayrock replied. "Then we'll worry about Oblitz."
They made it out of enormous, decorated doors at the back of the level and stepped outdoors into an expansive balcony teeming with guests. Two sets of stairs led down from either side of the balcony.
Everyone held holopads in their hands. A man stood at a podium near the railing at the other end, dealing with a few guests gathered around him.
"Where is the dragonsalt?" Heraclark asked.
Jayrock walked through the exquisitely dressed patrons and moved to stand before the railing on the other end. He let his eyes follow the rugged, sloping cliffsides lined with zigzagging flights of stone stairs and glanced toward the bay.
"There it is," he said.
...
They entered the opulent room. A gilded chandelier hung overhead while the walls were adorned with heavy, velvet curtains. The floor was lined with a plush, sea-green carpet.
They fell in with the guests there to witness the auction for Oblitz's coveted technology. The scientist himself now stood near the podium, talking to the auctioneer, while his guards stood at attention behind him.
"There she is," Glacia pointed.
At the far end of the room, Fae Ravelta stood with her arms crossed, surveying the room. She had brown hair with gray streaks tied in a thick braid flowing down her back. Her pantsuit was jet black with a golden chain adorning her neck.
"Well, then," Zablaron said. "Let's steal the plans from her and ruin her evening."
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